Shared Obsession Chapter 131

"Maybe our psychopath believes in abstinence," Castle suggests.

"It's more likely a performance problem," Kate figures. "And we still have no ID for the victim. Her fingerprints aren't in the system."

Leaning to the left, Ryan and Esposito simultaneously cry out. "No! No! No!"

"How do you even get in that position?" Ryan wonders.

"I don't know," Esposito responds. "But maybe you and your girlfriend should try it. In fact, I'm going to buy this for you right now."

Castle checks out the screen. "Oh geez! How do you even get in that position?"

"Right? It's not even possible," Ryan agrees.

Kate gives the screen a glance. "Oh, it's possible."

Ryan and Esposito turn questioning eyes on her.

"Guys," Castle quickly interjects, "you know how much she works out. She's into yoga lately, lots of yoga."

"Ri-i-i-ight," the two detectives respond.

Beckett clears her throat. "Getting back to real police work. Anything on the canvass?"

"Nothing yet," Esposito reports, "And nothing back from missing persons. Given that it just happened last night, it's most likely not gonna be reported for a couple of days."

"What about the cuffs?" Beckett asks.

"We found seven shops in Manhattan that make bondage gear," Ryan replies just as his landline sounds off. He picks up the receiver. "Ryan. Uh-huh. Thanks. That was Barry from the Love Shackle," he says as he hangs up. "He thinks the cuffs might be theirs but he'd have to examine them up close to make sure."

Kate grabs the evidence bag with the cuffs and starts for the elevator. "Come on, Castle. Field trip."


Castle peruses the wares displayed on the Love Shackle's walls. "You know, if the NYPD used these to restrain some of the prisoners, they might not want to leave. Imprisoning by love can be a lot more effective than guns and iron bars."

"Somehow, I don't think 1PP would go for it," Kate says.

Castle shrugs. "I don't know. I've heard rumors about…."

"Hey guys, looking for something special?" Barry interrupts.

"No," Kate replies.

Barry nods. "Just getting started, huh? Well, we get a lot of first-timers. We carry everything from bondage 101 all the way up to the more advanced stuff for your pleasure Ph.D." He holds up a pair of fuzzy pink handcuffs. "But if you're just looking to dip your toe in the water, these little guys are our best sellers. Want to give 'em a try?"

Kate lifts her coat to display her badge and cuffs. "No thanks, I have my own. But," she pulls the bag with the leather cuffs out of her purse, "I believe you told Detective Ryan you could examine these."

Barry holds the cuffs up to an oddly shaped magnifying mirror. "Double cross lap stitch on the seam. This pair is definitely one of mine."

"Can you tell us who ordered them?" Kate inquires.

"Yeah, I remember this kid. Very vanilla. Then, it's always the normal-looking ones that end up being the most freaky, right? But he had something. He ordered the cuffs for his girlfriend. Very cute, as I remember."

"Do you have a name or a billing address?" Kate asks.

Barry heads toward a computer behind a red curtain. "Let me check my records. Here it is. The cuffs were purchased six months ago by a Tyler Benton."

Kate holds up her phone with a picture of the murder victim. "Was this the girlfriend?"

Barry stares. "Wow, she looked a lot better then. But yeah, that's her."

"We need to talk to Tyler Benton and find out what he was doing last night," Kate says as she and Castle leave the store.

"My guess," Castle responds, "is killing his girlfriend."


As Tyler Benton stares up from his chair in the box, Kate holds up an 8 X 10 of the same photo she showed Barry, in front of him.

His face whitens. "That's Jessica, Jessica Margolis, my girlfriend. Next week was our one-year anniversary. I was going to propose."

Kate puts down the photograph. "Where were you last night, Mr. Benton?"

"At the hospital." He points to his scrubs. "I'm a first-year. I was on a 24-hour shift. You can ask my attending."

Kate puts the leather cuffs on the table. "Have you ever seen these before?"

"Yeah. I bought them for Jessica a few months ago. Why?"

"She was found hanging by them in the park," Castle replies. "You guys like to play?"

"What? No!" Tyler protests. "We never used them. They were – they were just supposed to be a joke because of her research."

"Research?" Castle questions.

"I tried to be supportive," Tyler insists, but I should have stopped her, pushed her to study something else."

"What was she studying?" Kate asks.

"The sociology of sexual bondage and domination. She spent months meeting people in that world, trying to understand what makes them tick. And they killed her for it."

"And where did she keep these cuffs?" Kate queries.

"I don't know. Probably at her place. Her roommate probably knows. The two of them were like attached at the hip."


"Beckett?" Castle asks after LT escorts Tyler out, "I guess you would know better than most. Does spending time in a strange erotic world rub off on people?"

"What's the matter, Castle? Are you afraid I'll take a whip to you in the middle of the night?"

"It would depend on what kind of a whip and what you planned to do with it. No. I was talking about Alexis getting in with the cheerleaders. I mean, do you think she might get caught up in the hormonal rush of modern gladiatorial combat?"

"Babe, are you afraid Alexis is going to fall for some muscle-bound lug named Bubba?"

"Something like that."

"So far she's gone for less violent competitors. Wasn't Owen the captain of his academic decathlon team?"

"Yeah, he was. But except for fencing, she hasn't been around the athletic types before. As a cheerleader, she would be."

"Castle, you don't even know that she'll make the team. And these days, cheerleading is a competitive sport in itself. She'd have to spend a lot of time practicing. Probably way more than she expects. Give her some time to find out, before you push the panic button."

"All right," he agrees. "For now."


After grabbing some fitful sleep on the cot, Brinkman wakes up to see a man towering over him. Like all the others, he wears a balaclava. But the senator can tell his visitor is at least six-four, and what he can see, doesn't appear particularly friendly."

"You have been a bad boy, Brinkman," Cross says, in a surprisingly mild voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Brinkman insists.

Cross shakes his head. "That's exactly what Marie Gainer said. But she also knew precisely what I was talking about. Senator, for decades you've been pulling strings all over this country and this world. You've disguised your activities well, often letting your operatives take the fall. And now, everyone thinks you're just a fragile, senile old man using his staff to cover for him enough to get through what will probably be his last term. You may be old, the birth records confirm that. But you're not fragile and you're definitely not senile. So, you are going to tell me, step by step, operation by operation, the damage you've managed to do to our country and the world all these years. But first, you're going to tell me about your plans for Kate Beckett and Richard Castle. Why did you try to send a car for them? What were you planning to do to them?"

Brinkman glares up at the masked face. "Go to hell!"

"Been there, and probably will be again. But you're going to make it to the ninth ring. In case you're not familiar with Dante, that's the one reserved for traitors. Still, before you go, you're going to confess all your dirty little secrets. The only question is, 'How much pain will it take to get you there?'"